


There Will Be No Dancing

by PartlyCloudySkies



Category: Amphibia (Cartoon)
Genre: Awkwardness, F/F, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Teen Romance, takes place around Marcy at the Gates and Plantars Check In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26175916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PartlyCloudySkies/pseuds/PartlyCloudySkies
Summary: There’s really no point in denying it. Anne knows that Sprig will do anything for her as sure as he knows she’d do the same for him. It’s dumb to hide something like this from him. Almost as dumb as hiding it from herself. “Dude… it’s just… it doesn’t make sense. I’ve known her for years.Years. And now all of a sudden I’m… this? I’mthis? What is this?”“Eh well it happens,” Sprig says with a shrug. He hops over to an entire display of snail shell polish. “You know a person, then suddenly you see them from a whole new perspective and they’re new. I mean it’s been months since the last time you’ve been together and a lot changed since then. You’ve both changed, right? That’s gotta make you see things in a new light. Probably.”“That’s oddly insightful of you.”“I know, right? Usually I learn an important life lesson only after putting myself or someone I love in mortal peril. I guess I’m lucky today. Or Polly and Hop Pop are fighting for their lives right now and we don’t know it yet. Let’s stay in blissful ignorance, just for a little while.”
Relationships: Anne Boonchuy & Sprig Plantar, Anne Boonchuy/Marcy Wu
Comments: 35
Kudos: 446





	There Will Be No Dancing

When they get permission to see what’s on the other side of Newtopia’s walls, Anne feels an itch in her brain, some dusty old memory she can’t quite grab hold of like one of those slippery grubs back home that are as big as her foot and try to burrow into the field and eat at the roots of Hop Pop’s crops.

It’s weird that the Plantar house back in Frog Valley is what she thinks when she thinks the word ‘home.’ Weird and troubling. Best to not think of it. What _is_ she thinking? Oh yes, Newtopia.

It looks like a place she had seen before. Not in the Valley or on the trip to get here, but before all that. _Home_ home. Human land. _Earth_. 

That’s what it’s called. Took a second.

Oh wow. There is so much that is also weird and troubling about that. Again, that’s for another time. _Focus, Anne_.

Beside her Marcy turns to look at her and wow, it’s _Marcy_ , turning to look at _her_ and this is kind of how her train of thought has been ever since that meeting at the gates.

Marcy’s changed so much! Anne knows this isn’t new information but it’s information that keeps surprising her every time it surfaces from the wild storm of her thoughts and sometimes when she thinks of Marcy she gets this kind of double vision. She can see the Marcy from back home ( _home_ home) who couldn’t cross a street without magically finding a pothole or open manhole _and_ she can see this new Marcy who swings from castle parapets and wields alchemical compounds like hand grenades. It’s wild and it gives Anne a giddy feeling like _anything_ can happen now. It’s butterflies, dude. Butterflies right in her ribcage.

Okay. Weird thoughts again. Get on track please and thank you this isn’t even the _point_ what is going on? Anne buries one hand into the depths of her hair as if she’s going to force her brain into submission with a wrestling hold and frankly, don’t think she won’t.

_Focus_

Newtopia is weirdly familiar. Right. It is. And that’s wild because it’s all so alien to her. The colors, the vaulting spires, the broad avenues lined with statues and decorated with fountains, it’s dazzling. But still that nagging in her brain tells her she’s seen this. Or something like this? Or… or…

If this were a few months ago she might use this _deja vu_ as evidence that she’s dreaming the whole thing but she got over that real quick. Her imagination could never conjure up the amount of beasts she’s run into that are so eager to eat her or feed her to their babies.

Still…

“Does all this seem familiar to you?” Anne says aloud without really meaning to.

Marcy turns to look at her and tilts her head in that way she does when she’s puzzling out a question she doesn’t have an immediate answer to. “I suppose so,” she says after a moment, pressing her finger under her pursed lips. “I mean, the main thoroughfare just got overhauled and the style is all kinds of derivative of Post-Neolissamphibian that was common during the Second Age of Salamanders, which is often considered a golden age of civilization here but you can _totally_ see how modern construction just fails to live up to the masters of the time.” She leans in conspiratorially. “The secret is the pedestals on the columns,” she says and snorts dismissively. “I mean, cast molded entabletures used in place of genuine hand-carved bas relief? Who do they think they’re fooling, right?” She elbows Anne, which accidentally triggers Marcy’s wrist-mounted crossbow, sending a bolt splintering into the cobblestone in front of them. A bystander at an avenue-side cafe doesn’t even flinch as Marcy whistles sheepishly. _Guess they’re used to it._

Anne looks at her with a frozen smile. “Ha ha. Yeah. Totes.” She throws in a thumbs up, for good measure. Of course Marcy studied the architectural movements of Amphibia. Of. Course. Some things don’t change.

Marcy returns her smile then turns to keep her eye on the road and Anne does the thing where she’s watching the road in front of them _and_ any potential obstacles _and_ Marcy in case she trips. She can’t help it; like yeah okay, Marcy changed but seriously some things don’t change. Anne can’t just turn off looking out for her.

Neither, _apparently_ , can she turn off looking _at_ Marcy, when she catches her eyes drifting. At first, it’s to notice how totally sweet her ranger duds are, but then she’s staring too long at Marcy’s cloak, how it drapes over her shoulder and frames her slender neck and how the clasp rests against her collarbone and accentuates the hollow of her throat and and… what? _What?_

Anne blinks rapidly. What was that?

 _Whoa what_. 

So this time she’s the one not watching where she’s going and catches her toe on an uneven cobblestone and nearly topples over.

And it’s Marcy that catches _her_. Swiveling on her feet and steadying her with one arm across her chest and hand on her shoulder. Anne is looking straight down, wide-eyed at the street because her brain is still going _what_.

“You alright there Annie B?” Marcy says into her ear with her warm breath and just the thought of that is enough to get Anne to stand up straight like a shot. Marcy’s arm falls away from her.

“It’s cool!” Anne says. “I’m very cool!” Her voice is cracking, that’s how cool she is. She coughs, clears her throat. “Yeah, totally!”

Which must not be very convincing because Marcy just kinda stares. Anne is scrabbling around in her brain for something to say. In the process, she makes the connection that’s been bugging her.

“Aq — Aquarium castles!” she says, her voice full of dawning realization.

Marcy is puzzled, but intrigued. Off in the periphery, the Plantars are whispering amongst themselves. Except for Polly, who is very loudly wondering if this absolute freakout Anne is having is ‘a human thing.’

“I _mean_ this place totally reminds me of those tiny aquarium castles!” Anne says loudly. “Remember the place? With the big aquarium? In the strip mall where they had a carousel out front that got shut down cuz a horse fell out while the ride was going so they replaced it with a petting zoo that got shut down cuz a goat bit some baby so they replaced it with a fountain that they shut down cuz they found some guy in it?”

“You have guys living in your fountains too?” Sprig says.

“I didn’t say he was living.”

Marcy claps her hands together. “Oh! Yeah, I remember! Such cute little seahorses. Weird! But, uh, don’t tell the royal family that their ancient ancestral seat of power reminds you of a toy decoration from a bad mall.”

Fingers snapping and pointing, Anne winks at Marcy. “Good call, dude.”

Marcy covers her mouth with one hand and laughs and Anne thinks that’s the best sound ever. On account of it’s been so long since last she heard it. Obviously.

_Focus_

* * *

The Hemisphere Hotel is loaded with distractions and the Plantars are just plain loaded, thanks to the _King himself_ , so that’s all pretty cool. Showered and rested from sleeping in a bed that isn’t moving and jostling her with every bump on the road, Anne is pretty much on top of the world at the moment. And at the top of the ferris wheel that dominates the hotel plaza.

The setting sun peeks over the city and the towers, it scatters light through the atrium glass into a coruscating sheet of rainbow colors that swaddles all the city in a warm, prismatic glow.

“Gotta admit,” Polly says, “I got in here prepared to be disappointed. Looked forward to that crushing bitter feeling even. But they were right, the view from up here is great and now my thwarted disillusionment has left me more frustrated than ever!”

“Well that’s nice, pumpkin,” Hop Pop says, too enamored with the vista before them to respond further. “A sight like this makes an old man glad he went out of the way to come all the way here from home. Shame Sprig’s still asleep.”

“Yeah,” Anne says. It’s been a good day, the first truly restful one since they had started on this whole trip. She’s feeling a pleasant buzz from all the pampering and good food and the constant doting of a hotel staff looking for a little gratuity from that sweet, sweet royal credit card. They won’t have that thing forever so… gotta milk it while it’s good. “It’d be great if Marcy were here too.”

Hop Pop is saying something about how she needs to focus on her research and Anne’s not listening because she already knows that so _why_ did she even say what she said? It just came out of her mouth! No thought or anything! She should find a way to stop that. Okay yes, she misses Marcy and that’s natural after all. She’s the first human… except for Sasha. Okay, she’s the first human Anne has seen who hasn’t pointed a weapon at her. On purpose. Pointed a weapon on purpose.

So it’s normal to want to hang out.

Anne is slumped over the edge of their car trying to sort out her thoughts when they reach the bottom and it’s time to get off and just when she thinks she’s jammed all these odd notions into some mental file cabinet to be forgotten forever, Marcy’s there. She’s waving _wave back Anne, wave back — no that’s not your style fist bump it — no handshake — HANDSHAKE?? is this a business meeting?? SMOOTH ANNE._

What she does is a kind of arm spasm where she somehow manages to slap herself. It is only by the grace of whatever frog gods hold sway over this land that Polly is monopolizing Marcy’s attention, demanding to know what weapons she has on her this time.

“Hey Plantars!” Marcy says. “Just checking up on you all. And no, Polly, I can’t take you to where we keep the catapults. Not tonight anyway. Hey Anna-banana!”

Anne collects herself enough to walk off the ride, but only just and Marcy’s in front of her. Anne smiles warmly. “Hey Marce-mallow. You’re looking goooo… not good. Wow. You okay?” She knows the answer already. The dark circles under Marcy's eyes is a classic sign of one of her all-nighters. Except it’s not even night yet.

Marcy chuckles, then runs her hands over her face. “It’s nothing, it’s just been a real, like, chore translating texts deep in the archives. So deep that natural light doesn’t reach the shelves and you have to use candlelight just to see in front of you so, you know, _wow_ eyestrain.”

“Marce, you gotta take care of yourself.” Anne fusses at Marcy’s cloak and tunic to really no effect but it’s always kinda been like this. “At least your work is done for the day.”

At this, Marcy blows a raspberry. “Anne, Chief Ranger of the Night Guard, remember? I’ve got ranging to do. At night. Patrols on the wall.”

“What? But you’re tired! Can’t you delegate? Isn’t that what chiefs do?” 

“My duty to keep the city safe didn’t go away just because I have a new research project. It’s fine, I’m fine.” Marcy’s shoulders slouch ever so slightly. 

Anne doesn’t miss it. She puts her hands on her hips. “This is like all those times you stay up all night for a new game release. And who has to keep you awake through school the next day? Me.” _Except this time the giant monsters aren’t in the video game_ she doesn’t bother to add.

“Yeah,” Marcy says with a wan smile. “You’re always taking care of me.”

“Well that’s just true, baby. C’mon Mar-mar. I’m treating you to a bugaccino and then we’re gonna patrol the wall together.”

“W-what?” Marcy says as she takes a step back. “You don’t have to do that! I mean, you’re a guest, you’ve had a long trip, I —”

“I don’t want to step on your syle but I still got to watch your back, Marce,” Anne says. “I _want_ to watch your back. Is that okay?”

Marcy breathes deep, in and out. “Yeah. That’s… okay. I’d like that, actually.”

“You two kids got this on your own?” Hop Pop says. She’s been around the old frog long enough to know when he’s giving her the opportunity to have some space and Anne super appreciates that.

She gives him the coveted human thumbs up. “Yeah, HP, we got this. You guys take it easy.”

Anne drapes her arm over Marcy’s shoulder and it’s, like, a thing, how Marcy leans into the touch. Yup. It’s a thing. Anne feels her guts do a whole entire somersault and her eyes briefly unfocus. Never had _that_ kind of reaction to _this_ kind of touch before. Did something change?

Marcy sinks deeper into Anne’s side and there’s more important things to think about now. “Okay girl,” Anne says. “We need to get you some caffeine. Or whatever it is these guys put in their coffee.”

“Oh,” Marcy says drowsily. “It’s actually pretty neat, you see instead of caff —”

“Okay Marbear, a little info about how I learned to cope with all this: I never think about the ingredients.”

Marcy laughs. A tired laugh. That…

That also sounds nice, Anne decides.

* * *

Anne is far above the city before she decides this joyride has just about used up all its joy.

The giant bat she’s clinging to weaves sickeningly in an effort to shake her off. Instead Anne tightens her one-handed grip in its tough matted fur and pulls herself up to grab another fistful and climbs up on top of the bat. It shrieks, shrill and high.

“Yeah, yeah,” Anne says. She clambers up towards its head and grabs it by both ears, pulling on them like reins. “Whoa!”

The bat lurches in the sky and plummets. Which is… totally what Anne wants, but maybe not so fast. She eases up on her grip and the bat rights itself.

Oh, yeah. Bats use echolocation and she had just covered its ears. Real smart, Anne.

At least they’re closer now and if she thinks about it, if she covers one ear at a time, maybe she can steer the bat where she wants.

A moment of experimentation later and she’s more or less got the hang of it. Enough to get herself back over the walls of Newtopia _and_ enough to get this critter to ram into another giant bat that’s trying to make a meal of a newt guard on the wall. She does a somersault off the bat as both creatures plummet down the wall’s outer side. Because you know, for style.

She hits the flat stone ready to run to where Marcy is fighting off her own bats on a besieged parapet. But when she stands up Marcy is already there and there’s no more signs of giant winged predators.

“Oh cool, you already — whoa!”

Marcy flings her arms around Anne’s neck for a quick, tight hug. She breaks the hug to hold Anne by the shoulders at arm length to do a quick check for injuries.

“Annie!” she says, once satisfied all is in order, “That was awesome!”

Anne laughs and runs one hand through her hair. “Hey, no big. Just another varmint to wrassle, you know? Not the first time” _Very smooth_.

It takes a moment for Marcy to check in with the patrol that had been under attack but it’s a moment Anne takes to lean back and watch. It’s so cool to see her take charge. She’s giving orders to squads of newts. And they’re going ‘yes ma’am, right away ma’am,’ She’s really gotten… hot.

 _Ha ha what?_ Anne feels sweat bead on her forehead, collect on her eyebrows. _I meant cool. She’s gotten cool. Which is not the same. Although…_

“I swear to frog, brain, If I have to cut my skull open and beat some sense into you I will,” Anne whispers fiercely.

“What was that?” Marcy says as she jogs up.

“Nothing,” Anne says with a break in her voice. “Just thinking out loud.”

“Oh, yeah. Welcome to the club.”

They resume their patrol, walking side by side. Marcy is bouncy and chatty. The bugaccino gave her the boost she needed. Still. Maybe Anne will talk to the king about getting Marcy a break. Or would that be a step over the line? Marcy likes to push herself and maybe the king doesn’t realize that. Nobody’s ever really paid attention to Marcy enough to notice things like that. Only Anne.

“And then you swatted that one bat’s butt with the flat of your sword blade? And it just flew away? That was great!” Marcy was saying as she vibrated. “You’ve gotten really good with swords!”

“Back at you dude!” Anne says, “With your crossbows and daggers and freaking potions!”

“Aw. That’s just, thanks. But you used your weapon non-lethally!” Marcy brandished he wrist crossbow. It was loaded with a bolt that had a glass vial attached to it. A green liquid sloshed inside. “It took me weeks to formulate this bat sedative but you totally had it handled! Good thing too because I didn’t want to shoot while you were up there. This stuff only calms down bats. On other creatures, well, let’s not talk about that!”

“A-greed!” Anne says.

They amble and talk and check in with patrols they come across. Newtopia at night is a stark thing. Light pools in dazzling opalescent splendor to one side of them. Folks mill around below, the night life in full swing. On the other side, the wilderness beyond the walls is an expanse of near-absolute darkness. Anne can hear the gentle slosh of the ankle high waters that surround the city and the call of night creatures prowling in the dark.

“Have bats always been a problem?” Anne asks. She and Marcy are taking a break, leaning against the wall facing over the city. Its lights of white and pink and blue blend together and highlights Marcy’s face in a way that’s… really nice.

Marcy nods. “They were an even _bigger_ problem when I arrived. When night comes, the city lights attract giant moths, you see. The giant moths attract giant bats who come to hunt them. But once the giant bats are in the city they notice that newts are much tastier than moths. It used to be that the city shut down once the sun set. But then I studied the moths and designed a light cover that both filters out the specific wavelength that attracts them and directs most of the light down into the city instead of up at the sky. It’s impossible to cut down on light pollution entirely so I mounted even stronger lights on the walls. That way, the moths are drawn to the walls which means less bats _and_ the bats that do gather are only on the walls where we can drive them off. It’s not a perfect system but it’s better than what we had before.”

“Wow,” Anne says. She looks over at Marcy, back against the wall, elbows draped over it and head turned to look down at the city with fondness. The wind tugs at her hood and stirs her short, black hair and she’s smiling. The light picks out her features and makes her glow. _Wow_.

Anne feels this urge to get closer. But that’d be rude, right? Or… it’d be… whatever.

“You’re really something else,” she says instead, her voice thick like she needs water or something. “Like… impressive, I mean. You were already like, the smartest, best person I knew and it’s like out here you’ve just gotten smarter and bestier.”

At least Marcy blushed, so all this mushy stuff isn’t completely humiliating. The way it’s been welling up inside Anne, she can’t keep it in anymore. Marcy is… amazing. She’s really, really amazing. And thinking it and saying it and accepting it makes Anne feel light. She looks down at the city and feels her cheeks burn. Also it’s still actually mortally embarrassing.

“Sometimes I think about how much I’ve changed and it’s like… I can’t even remember who I was before I came here,” Marcy says. “You’ve changed too.”

Anne swallows. “I have?” Her eyes drift over to look at her friend.

Marcy looks away, down at her cloak where she picks at some unseen thing. “It’s like… you’ve always been kind. But now you’re brave too. And even kinder. And that’s… really cool.” Marcy clears her throat and brings her hand up to fix her hairclip. Which looks fine from where Anne can see, but still. “You’re more confident now,” Marcy continues. “When you want something to happen you just… go out there and do it. Like with the bats. Those were some crazy stunts out there. You’re, like, Anne with the plan. And you just do them. And for really reals, you got good with that sword there.”

Now it was Anne’s turn to blush and look away. She laughs weakly. “Turns out having a good backhand is like, 80% of sword fighting. Who knew? But I guess I know what you mean, about how we’ve changed. I have a hard time remembering what I was like when I first came here too.”

“We’ve both grown,” Marcy says. She craned her head back to look up at the stars. “Me and you. The city with me. The valley with you. I’m… I know we have to get home. But I’m glad we came here. I’m glad we let these places change us.”

Thoughts of home drift through Anne’s head like the skin that forms over Hop Pop’s beetle carapace stew. Home and the people she had to see.

“Sasha didn’t change,” she says.

“What?” Marcy says, her voice quiet.

“When we met? Me and Sasha? She hadn’t changed. Still the same old Sash.” She hadn’t talked about this to _anyone_. She couldn’t. Sasha is… Sasha is not a nice person. She sees that now. But she’s still _Sasha_. The only person who ever stuck up for Anne, who made her feel like she mattered. So okay, she might have done that because Anne was a people pleaser who’d do anything to make someone like Sasha happy. Anne sees that too. But also… it’s Sasha. And anyone she talked to about it here wouldn’t understand.

Anyone but Marcy.

“It was like nothing was different for her,” says Anne. “She looked around at this world and it was just like school to her. She saw the in groups and the out groups and who she could dominate and who she had to manipulate. All the levers that she could pull to get her way. Except this _isn’t_ school. People can get hurt for real. There are swords and monsters and explosions. But she couldn’t accept that. Couldn’t accept that I changed, either. I don’t think she cared. What’s weird is that when I think back at everything she did I’m not even mad. I’m just… I’m so worried for her.” Anne rubs her arm, the one that had been fractured in her fight with the toads from the tower.

Marcy’s the one who gets close this time, and Anne’s grateful. She leans into her half-hug as they sit together against the wall.

“I’m sorry,” Marcy says. “I know how she can get. We’ll find her. We’ll bring her around.”

“If the two of us can’t, I don’t think anything will,” Anne says. “At the least, we’ll find a way home. And if we can’t… be friends after that. I guess… we won’t.” Tears, most unwelcome, form in her eyes. She scrubs at them, schools her voice before it can break. Hides the fear as best she can. “Kinda really lame how that’s my best case scenario.”

“Hey,” Marcy says in that way that Anne knows she totally failed at hiding the tears. “You and me? We’re good. So at least we’ll have that. But don’t you worry. Sash is gonna change too. It’s just what happens. Like a moth. It’s nature.”

“Heh.” Anne finds strength in her voice. The way Marcy holds her definitely helps. “Yeah. You’re right. We’re gonna get her to see things different, no matter what!”

“Annnnnnnnnnne,” Marcy says.

“What? What? What’s up?”

“You gotta do your power pose when you say stuff like that!”

Anne looks at her, then she doubles over in a fit of laughter. “Totally, dude, my bad,” she says while laughing.

Marcy beams at her, and while she can’t say for certain, Anne thinks Marcy’s got that look like maybe she likes the sound of Anne’s laughter too.

* * *

“It’s because you’re in love with her,” Sprig says while they’re out shopping. Anne had just fallen silent after realizing that she had been talking to Sprig about Marcy for fifteen minutes straight as they browsed the expensive looking shops and stalls that lined the broad commercial avenue in the ritzy side of the city.

This catches Anne _dead_ and she stops where she stands, her head shaking like the lid over a pot of boiling water. “W-wha… what! What! Sprig! What! Her — what! What!”

“Come on Anne, it’s preeeeetty obvious. It’s not a big deal.” He points at a stall piled high with berries that are a deep brick-red type of color. “Hey, did you know that when you blush you kinda look like a bog fruit?” 

“Sprig!” Anne says through clenched teeth. “We are just _friends_.”

“What was it that magazine of yours said? About how most one true loves start out as ‘just friends’?”

Anne groans. She should have known better than to expect Sprig to forget that.

“Do not be weird about this, dude,” she says.

“Anne,” Sprig looks at her with deadly earnest froggy eyes. “as your friend who only wants what is best for you and would literally die for you… it is my sworn duty to milk this in revenge for what you did to me and Ivy.”

Anne groans because it’s not like she can say anything against that.

“So. You got a cruuuu-usssh.” Sprig does a hateful little dance and bats his evil big eyes. He is a malevolent goblin in Anne’s eyes now, created only for mischief and devilry.

“Neither talking or thinking about this, buddy.”

“Aw come on. It’s neat! Do humans have special mating dances? Do they —”

“Sprig!”

The tenor of her voice causes Sprig to give pause and he tilts his head thoughtfully. “Too much?”

This earns another groan from Anne. There’s really no point in denying it. Anne knows that Sprig will do anything for her as sure as he knows she’d do the same for him. It’s dumb to hide something like this from him. Almost as dumb as hiding it from herself. “Dude… it’s just… it doesn’t make sense. I’ve known her for years. _Years_. And now all of a sudden I’m… this? I’m _this_? What is this?”

“Eh well it happens,” Sprig says with a shrug. He hops over to an entire display of snail shell polish. “You know a person, then suddenly you see them from a whole new perspective and they’re new. I mean it’s been months since the last time you’ve been together and a lot changed since then. You’ve both changed, right? That’s gotta make you see things in a new light. Probably.”

“That’s oddly insightful of you.”

“I know, right? Usually I learn an important life lesson only after putting myself or someone I love in mortal peril. I guess I’m lucky today. Or Polly and Hop Pop are fighting for their lives right now and we don’t know it yet. Let’s stay in blissful ignorance, just for a little while.”

“What should I do, dude? This was _not_ my plan when I came to Newtopia.”

“We’re still doing the plan, right? Marcy and all those smart newts in nerd tower are researching that box thingy. And while that’s happening, this is happening.”

“Kinda figured I’d be just chilling while that’s happening. Not having a secret crush on my friend. Maybe I can just hide until she unlocks the secrets of the ancients and finds the way back home.”

“I think that’s a terrible idea.” Sprig opens a jar of shell shine, dabs his finger in it and scrubs it against his teeth. The polished area becomes blinding and Anne has to shield her eyes when he smiles at her.

“There’s too much at stake!” she says. “There’s finding Sasha, going back to _home_ home, and I know that’s two things but those two things are going to be _a lot_ let’s not kid ourselves. I can’t afford to make it weird with teen drama!”

“Girl you better take a long hard look at yourself before you say a thing like that,” Sprig says. “Besides, I’ve got this. You don’t have to do a thing!”

Anne’s eyes widen with horror and she lunges at Sprig, but he jumps and he laughs. “Sprig those are nightmare words you cannot say words like that! Get back here! Sprig!”

With one last turn, he blinds her with his brilliant teeth and vanishes into the crowd. “Revenge!” he yells. 

Anne lets out a long, terrible moan.

“You gotta pay for that shine, ma’am,” the stall vendor says behind her.

A long, terrible moan.

* * *

It’s an evening in the plaza of the Hemisphere where Sprig enacts his terrible revenge.

Anne is just sitting at a table near the ferris wheel with Sprig, all thoughts of the whole marketplace debacle forgotten. And then Marcy walks right up to them. 

“Oh, Marcy!” Sprig says. “So nice of you to show up all of a sudden!” He looks at Anne with a big, big grin.

Anne has to make the hard choice whether to give Sprig the death glare or stare at Marcy. Which is such a weird thing to do, now that Anne’s spoken the truth out into the world. _A secret crush on my friend_. Right. She said that out loud. She needs to find another magical box that will send her to another strange dimension. Would she take that risk? Would she roll those dice? The next one could be worse. Spider dimension. Arachnia.

“Hey! Thanks for inviting me guys!” Marcy says. She’s still in her ranger gear but that’s not a bad thing. Kind of hot. Anne can think that now. She can think that Marcy looks hot in her ranger gear, padded leather and cloak and tunic and a book slung under her arm. How her face is framed by her hair and how actually _cute_ that face is how those boots show off just enough, uh, enough, uh

Thigh.

_Oh no._

Anne is sweating now and this was gonna be a _problem_.

As soon as Marcy sits down, Sprig stands up and cups one hand to the side of his face like he’s listening to some distant sound. “Hey Marcy! Oh whoops, I think I heard Polly! It sounds like she killed someone! I gotta go! You two have fun without me don’t tear up the dance floor too much byeeeee!” He hops away.

“The _what_?” Anne and Marcy say, but it’s immediately apparent when a glass bowl full of lightning bugs descends on a rope from the ceiling and hotel staff start clearing out the plaza floor and the main lights dim as multi-colored spotlights sweep over the open space. Anne knows what this is like, right down to her bones, she knows.

“Welcome guests one and all it’s dance night here at the Hemisphere!” some dude is shouting into a hollowed out monster horn. A hastily assembled stage is already there and a frog band is dragging their instruments up the steps.

Any other time, Anne would be all about a surprise dance party.

But not this time. Sprig couldn’t have known. He had the best intentions.

This time, she looks over at Marcy. Her back is turned and she’s staring off in the direction of the dance floor.

The thing that she dreads the most.

Marcy never could handle the spotlight, or the thought of other people watching her attempt to dance. She was a total wallflower back home and would freeze up anywhere _near_ an actual dance. Sasha and Anne managed to get her into Super Dance Fusion — as long as literally no one else was in the arcade while they played — but beyond that, no, absolutely not. Marcy Wu does not dance.

But hey, Marcy’s a changed person. Maybe she’s over her fear, maybe she’s —

Anne catches a glimpse of Marcy’s hand from under her cloak. Fist clenched, her arm muscles so tense it’s vibrating. Marcy already has her hood up as if she could hide in there.

So nope. Big, big nope.

All thoughts of Anne’s crush evaporate at the sight of Marcy seized up like this. She has to step in. She puts a gentle hand on Marcy’s shoulder. Marcy jolts where she stands, causing Anne to wince. “Let’s totally brush this place off,” she whispers.

Marcy nods stiffly and they speedwalk over to the elevator, Anne’s hands on her shoulders. When the elevator doors slide open Anne hits a button for a high-up floor and Marcy visibly relaxes once their car lurches upward.

“Thanks Anne,” Marcy says. “You saved me a smoke bomb.” Anne looks down at her palm, where Marcy is clipping a gray satchel back onto her belt.

“Uh… yeah no problem. I’m always about saving smoke bombs.”

“Ugh I hate dancing,” Marcy says as she looks out the glass to the receding dance floor as it slowly fills up.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.”

“I never know how to move I don’t have rhythm I always feel like people are staring.”

“You like that dancing game.”

“That’s different. When it’s just me and you girls its okay. And also there’s a quantifiable score-based objective attained through well-defined mechanics.”

Anne smiles. “Yeah, totally.”

They come out on the 21st floor and Marcy can now safely look down without feeling trapped. “Of course, I say I feel like I’m being watched and here I am totally watching them down there. Kind of messed up, right?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little messed up, dude,” Anne says.

Marcy smiles and laughs. Then she reaches out, wraps Anne’s arm around her own and draws the two of them close together. “Looks like you saved me again. Where would I be without you?”

“Ah. You don’t need me.”

It’s supposed to be some offhand comment, but it feels wrong coming out of Anne’s mouth and Marcy doesn’t say anything for a while. She doesn’t let go, fidgeting with Anne’s arm, all full of nervous energy. Music floats up from the dance floor, echoing and strange by the time it reaches their ears, but it’s not bad. The low rainbow of spotlights far below cast soft shadows all around them.

“I think… I think it’s because you’re warm-blooded,” Marcy says. Her words are slow and uncertain.

“What?”

“I mean, it’s the only reason I keep getting close to you. Nothing else makes sense. You’re so _warm_. I’ve been surrounded by amphibians for months and now you’re here and you feel like a furnace. Everyone else is so clammy and slimy. Which is fine!” Marcy says quickly. “But it’s been so long since I’ve touched a human. Is that why? Is that why I always want to be so close to you?”

Anne’s face pulls down into a frown and she lets out a breath that rattles her ribcage as Marcy talks. In the dark, thrown into soft relief by the colored lights far below, Marcy’s face is scrunched up in concentration. Anne knows that face. It’s the way Marcy looks when she runs into a question on a test that actually challenges her. Anne knows all of Marcy’s expressions. _She’s been thinking about this for a while._

For the first time, Anne lets herself dare to hope that she’s not the only one with questions. Not the only one getting this dizzy, fuzzy feeling.

She twists her arm around so they’re holding hands now and she hears Marcy breathe in, short and sharp. “Maybe that’s not why?” Anne says.

Marcy looks up at Anne, and this time, the expression on her face is something new. Something Anne has never seen before.

“So,” Anne swallows.

_You’re more confident now. When you want something to happen you just… go out there and do it._

That’s what Marcy thinks of her. Anne’s not sure it’s true, but if that’s what Marcy sees, then maybe Anne can pretend it _is_ true.

“So, but, uh, and, I think I might need you, though” she says, and before this fake confidence leaves, she bends down. 

And Marcy stands up taller, and they meet halfway.

There’s darkness seeping at the edges with colorful light, and music too far to really appreciate, and Marcy and Anne, neither quite sure how to do it, but their lips are pressed together. Anne is pulling Marcy up by her very rad cloak and Marcy has her arms around Anne’s neck and her hands buried up in her big bushy hair. They take their time, shift around a little. Anne lets go of the cloak and puts her hand on the small of Marcy’s back, who arches up into the embrace. They make the kiss work. Or at least work enough that neither of them have any complaints, and they sigh as one.

When they finally part, their eyes lock on to each other. 

“Whoa dude,” Anne says.

Marcy rolls her eyes. “Yeah. Whoa.” She shifts her grip so she’s hugging Anne by the waist. She presses her face into Anne’s chest and sighs. “Might still just be the warm-blooded thing, though.”

Anne combs through Marcy’s hair with one hand and feels the strength in Marcy’s arms. It feels like she’s not letting go anytime soon. And that’s just fine. “Hey, if you want to tell me I’m hot, just say that I’m hot. I’m down.”

“Shut up,” Marcy says, laughing.

Anne leans against the railing, holds Marcy in her arms, and shuts up.


End file.
